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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313987">Lunch Break</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyslexicSquirrel/pseuds/DyslexicSquirrel'>DyslexicSquirrel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Deal with the Devil [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, maybe a little plot if you squint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:01:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313987</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyslexicSquirrel/pseuds/DyslexicSquirrel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier had said he wanted lunch, but Geralt hadn’t expected that. </p><p>Maybe he should have.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Deal with the Devil [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755448</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Geraskier Kink Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lunch Break</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another fill for Geraskier Kink Bingo.</p><p>Square: Exhibitionism</p><p>This is going to be part one of a series, with different parts for different bingo squares.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Come have lunch with me, Jaskier said. I only have fifteen minutes, but I want to see you, he said. I know you have a break in between classes, he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He should know better by now than to take Julian “Jaskier” Pankratz’s words at face value. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shhh, Geralt.” Jaskier was pressed all along his back, warm breath brushing his ear, as he reached around to cover Geralt’s mouth. “You don’t want them to hear you, do you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moaned, low, muffled by Jaskier’s hand, and couldn’t help the way his hips rolled, pressing his erection, trapped behind too many layers of fabric, against the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s answering chuckle was pure sin. A tongue dragged up the shell of his ear. “Oh, sweetheart. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>them to hear you. Don’t you? Hear how much you like taking my cock up that delectable ass of yours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was a horrible idea. This was Jaskier’s office, for fuck’s sake. Anyone could walk in. They hadn’t even locked the door. He was close enough to it that he could reach out and click the lock, but he didn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mine and no one else’s,” Jaskier crooned, hand sliding down to circle his throat lightly, just enough to tip his head back. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened his mouth to say… something. Something scathing most likely because he still wasn’t sure what he was doing or how to act. But “Fuck,” was what he grated because Jaskier’s other hand had worked its way inside his jeans, those clever fingers brushing the tip of his dick through his boxer briefs, rubbing at the wet spot on the cotton. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Be as loud as you want. I want to hear you.” He didn’t have much room to move, could only rub against the length of his dick lightly and circle the head with his thumb. It shouldn’t be enough, but Jaskier was playing him like an instrument. Between his hand and his words, Geralt was teetering on the edge already. He might have been working up to this for a while, to be honest. Jaskier liked sending dirty texts at the most inappropriate of times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want everyone to hear you come. And get jealous because I’m touching you and they’re not.” Then his hand was </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside </span>
  </em>
  <span>Geralt’s underwear, hot and firm, caressing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goddamnit.” It was guttural, the word almost unrecognizable. He was thrusting against Jaskier’s hand, dry humping it like a teenager, and he was going to come in his pants like he hadn’t since he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could feel Jaskier’s erection pressing into the cleft of his ass and between picturing Jaskier bending him over his ridiculously large desk and the other man letting go of his throat to squeeze one of his pecs, it was over. He spilled, Jaskier telling him how good he was being, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought he yelled—too loud, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, too loud—and his head hit the wall with a thump without Jaskier holding the weight up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt was a shuddering mess when Jaskier pulled his hand free, cheeks blazing because if everyone on the floor didn’t know what happened by his shouting, they would when they saw him walk out of here. He turned so his back was pressed against the wall, holding his weight. His chest was still heaving, but when he opened his eyes, his breath caught in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier smiled, wicked and impeccably dressed in a three piece suit, licking Geralt’s come from his fingers. He pulled the last one from his mouth with a pop. “Thanks for lunch, lover.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt blinked, watching Jaskier saunter back to his desk and sit. His eyes drifted to the bag of Thai takeout he’d picked up on the way over, ignored on the coffee table in front of the couch. The other man nudged his mouse and glanced up. He checked the time on the shiny watch encircling his wrist that Geralt was sure cost more than his yearly rent and said, “Don’t you have a class at one?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a dismissal if he had ever heard one, but Jaskier </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>said he only had fifteen minutes. Geralt took a deep breath and wondered if he still had a change of clothes in the gym bag in his trunk. He tried to run a hand through his hair, forgetting he had put it up this morning, only managing to make himself look worse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, bye,” he mumbled lamely. Jaskier’s attention was on his computer screen, tossing a distracted wave Geralt’s way. He sighed and walked out the door, glad he wore black jeans this morning. The wet spot was less noticeable, though everyone still looked at him with knowing glances. His glare scared off more than a few of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I might have made a deal with the devil, he thought, heading for the elevator, and I don’t fucking care.</span>
</p>
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